Kashmir Delirium

Oh People Of Earth! Thankful are we,
For each act of benevolence shown to us.
Your gilded sweet words describing,
The beauty of Kasmir, land and people.

Mention in books and talks of it's riches,
Naming it the Sweet Paradise Of Earth.
The Lord has been bountiful to Kashmir,
Treasure of resources in every sphere.

To elevate each aspect, our wish for life,
As every acre of this land is worth millions.
Full of treasures and recreational value,
Forestry with grandeur and silvery rivers.

The outside world's view is so limited,
Simple folks living in the lap of rich bounty.
Mentioned in world forums and organizations,
But what of the goal of giving us freedom?

What has The UN established in our name?
To measure the pain and anguish we bear,
At the hands, of our supposed benefactors.
The saviours who has us fractured.

But in reality they train their enforcers,
In the art of creating oceans of tears.
The red blood now hidden in camouflage,
The spent shells now gathered and hidden.

The leaders we are told to elect in electoral shams,
Run publicity kiosks and swell friend lists.
Joint conferences to address personal interests
Dialogues that never address the root issues.

Just the formalities and no sympathy,
For the ones burnt in cruel sadistic reprisals.
The hypocrisy continues deliriously unabated,
More augmentation of the security forces.

For a first hand view of deep hypocrisy,
Walk this land, you know as beautiful.
Religious leaders will teach you  political artistry,
Sermons full of ambiguity and guile.

Waywardness and narrow mindedness on display,
Political apologists give great lessons.
Religion and religious ethnicity are tools,
That keep minds and bodies in total check.

Gamesmanship by leaders is the rule of thumb,
As promises are forgotten once office is obtained.
When writing of this succulent beautiful land,
Write of the air, pregnant with sadistic practices.

This land is being stripped of worldly treasures,
And the greatest treasure is mistreated daily.
The best of nation is the inhabitants,
Ignored are the real gems of this beautiful paradise.

Contentment, the waist of busy bodies’ blind eye

This constant state might make life pass unnoticed by

And without the essence of our true self to know

Who is to correct the waywardness this world now shows

With technology a constant item of our bliss

We cannot see the natural wonders that we miss

Oh god if you just put down your **** phone

And let the beauty of this world become known

It would fill up the empty feeling in your soul

You get when sitting utterly alone

Because knowing ones own self is a true gift

That comes only to people who actively live


-Megan Ducote

Astutely speaking, we all at some point

Ponder on matters spiritual, the kind
In the realms outside observable phenomena.
Even to some extent, we can’t help
Consulting various spiritual practitioners to
Extrapolate circumstances prevalent in the future.

Otherworldly beauty is not only a matter of
Fascination it’s an obsession too.

Hallowed space in today’s world is
Exceedingly limited, an abundant scarcity
A paucity of meaning attached to it.
Various denominations exist to
Entrench a semblance of piety to counter
A rather stack waywardness.
Neverland, is it real?

O lovely chance, what can I do
To give my gratefulness to you?
You rise between myself and me
With a wise persistency;
I would have broken body and soul,
But by your grace, still I am whole.
Many a thing you did to save me,
Many a holy gift you gave me,
Music and friends and happy love
More than my dearest dreaming of;
And now in this wide twilight hour
With earth and heaven a dark, blue flower,
In a humble mood I bless
Your wisdom—and your waywardness.
You brought me even here, where I
Live on a hill against the sky
And look on mountains and the sea
And a thin white moon in the pepper tree.

Softly you sleep
as I
unable to
keep tender vigil...

my waking dream
made flesh
sleeps
safe beneath
my thankful gaze.

Those eyes
see not mine own
tracing her lips
and chin
her perfect poise
framed
by gilded hair...

I brush back from
blushing cheeks
the waywardness
strands
and smile...

she knows not
I cannot sleep
for fear
I will awake.

Exactly what happened?
Was it stolen?
Was it lost?
Forgotten something
Exactly what happened?

What was thought to be going on in mind at the present moment of time is no longer anywhere in the mind
A moment has been forgotten, if not then probably it has been lost along with the flow of time
Something got definitely skipped out of mind
Exactly what was it?
A precious moment in time
It had got something with regards to the future in the present, but the moment has been lost
It’s the ability to think beyond and think again that leads to waywardness and adds confusion
Nothing else
Nothing more
Seldom it’s the ability to think deeply and in detail that leads to slowdown in thought process
As of now what else can be done?
Squeeze out yourself, take a deep breath, take it easy, relax for a while
Stop pondering over each and everything
Be normal, follow routine
Definitely you will be able to retrieve the moment which was lost
The lost moment will definitely be found
It will take time, but definitely it will be found
Then the time will come to take the next step
Till then live in the present to the best of your abilities
Definitely something which was lost will be found, if not recovered instantaneously prior.

I want to write to immortalize my name,
but my heart is poured out on the ground like wax,
So like Jesus and Solomon and some others,
If I'm lucky,
maybe I could immortalize my pain.

It has all been redone, rehashed, rewritten, and reread, (this included)
and like billions of others,
my world revolves around me,
my instinct and my survival,
wedged in my head.

We are all philosophers, scientists and sheep,
from princes to murderers,
from mothers to sailors,
the remembered and forgotten,
the drunks and the tailors-
We're sincerely believing the delusions we keep.

I think some found truth,
and others found lies,
and some found excuses
for the passions of youth.

But I have favourite things that keep me alive,
the songs and the family and friends that help me pass time,
conquering problems and getting things right,
the fragile ecstasy,
the rare intimacy,
touch.

I constantly feel the drain of time running out,
my back is in knots,
I'm tired and in doubt.

I see people I love aging and fading,
and I know we all share it,
our lives are decaying.

My heart has grown hard from the sorrow I've seen,
so many bleeding,
I'm also bleeding.

It's too hard too cry tears for all the begging children I see
they never run out,
we're always needing.

I want to live hope and love in this world,
despite my terminal condition,
my weakness and waywardness,
my incessant betrayal,
there must be some good to flow from this cracked jar.

And I want to walk with you,
none of us are alone here,
this pain belongs to us all.

I will fail from time to time,
in my self-centerdness forget you are mine.

But there will be times when we will touch on eternity.
We will calm the blame with soft whispers of each others names.
We will laugh and clown until our tears have run out.
We will know we belong, pretend that were strong.

In this sense I do live for you, and you for me,
imagine without that what a hell this would be.

And when I die, who knows what will be next?
But I will leave behind some beautiful things.

And if you go before me,
I'll carry you home,
then bury your bones,
then bury your memories inside me
and let them fade with me.

Dear God
I’m trying to reach you
The whales synchronize
Their song amongst the stars
Periodically I belong to your heart,
Place a hand underneath the moon
The love of a swan scared shadows away
Conciseness, I felt on a deep trance
Incision with precision
The last heartbeat of a soldier
Steering at the sun,
Generations of battles left him breathless
Waywardness sinks the miracle
Under a cool breeze
A ******* of last words
The blood run deeper
Through the gates of freedom
Bounce the smoke
Through gates of desperate measure
Sit back and listen to strings of fire
Bring a message with strings of gold
Coldness bear witness across the streets of fear
Sometimes is so hard to believe
the light in front of you
Hold the line open, father
Separation began with an apple,
Unfaithfulness holds the world in tears
Love the unloved, the pain of last moments
Leave life like the jazz song,
The fever of a summer night  
Caught a fly underneath the honey well
Peace found a walk on the sand
Reaching for my pen
I stray like the cloud ready to rain…




Rony Joseph all rights reserved 2010

To me, this sounded so final and trite,
But his wife, she said, left him,
Cause she couldn't be a wife.

There's a fine epitaph to carve,
On the stone above his life:

My wife, they say, left me,
Cause she couldn't be a wife;
That's all she ever wanted,
To be this dead man's wife.

A couple passing by the script,
Might read an enigmatic drift.

What kind of wife, the woman asked,
I wonder what he meant by that.

One who'd drink and drink some more,
Smoke and eat and grow so fat
On Caesar's Salad and chocolate.

Could she nurse through any sickness;
See it for what it is;
For what it was;
Work with the outcome,
Not the cause.

And yet, it's true, all along,
He wasn't in control.
Not abuse, or waywardness,
But the drink that dries the soul.

What could that wife do
In the fight.

They each promised,
Each meant each life;
Does she get to choose the sickness?
What kind of wife gets to pick it?

I know he didn't give objection,
As many husbands do,
When she raised ablutions
To false gods she eschewed;
They promised on the temple pinnacle
That all is theirs, if she submits,
To the pyramids that promise riches.

Till death do us part.

Now that's a lark,
In a song of lament.
She could have been any wife
She'd deem to choose in her life;
She chose,
For a limited time,
On a definition
He declined.

Had I known I’d make it this far,

Would I have taken better care?

Would I have walked by one bar?

Passed on one affair?

Declined a chemical adjustment?

Favored good sense over whim?

Deferred to my better judgement?

Forgone ribeye for kale so grim?

Of course not.

Assuming only survival had confirmation

And the aftermath of each decision

Were still open to speculation,

There would be no need for revision.
Suspending loss or gain,

And ignoring others’ wrath,

The fact that I remain

Confirms the virtue of my path.

Well, that may be going too far,

But, unrepentant, I’m already there.

Strange faith in fate served me well, so far

And pulled me through without a care.

Yet my waywardness in both fact and fame

Was no less reckless, no less wild

Than of friends fallen in this game

Some so young - less man, more child.



I’ve indeed fared better

Than friends of long ago

Who broke through every fetter

Unwilling the prized cheese to forego

And in a headlong rush

Lunged,  heedless of the twang and snap

And fell to the deadly crush

0f fate’s cold steel trap.

Spring-loaded, compelling,

The trap holds undeniable sway,

But upon that I won’t be dwelling

While I have cheese enough for today.


Was I lucky?  Doubtless so.

Was I canny in avoiding fate?

I guess, but how much, who could know?

So there are no values to equate,

And no formula for a survivor’s guide

To having one’s cake and eating it, too.

Such book would be hailed far and wide

A bestseller!  But patently untrue.

The truth is that I have no idea

Why I’m now facing longevity,

Why, against all odds, I’m still here

In defiance of expected brevity.

So maybe I’m just the Second Mouse,

Distracted, wandering o’er the map,

Drifting from room to room, house to house

Appearing just after some unlucky sprung the trap.

At that point, what for me remains

But to show respect, doff my hat

And set to the work that pertains

To cheese management and growing fat.

My fate will arrive, neither too soon nor too late

An unknowable appointment’s been set,

‘Til then the whys and hows prove pointless debate

While I have good company and cheese enough yet.

In my lounge thoughts of
books yet to be read,
if only this prescribed stillness could improve
the comfort of the time  
and the light  paving  stronger shadows,
my slippers  merging into coolness
with the  envisaged  ideal
i am safer  in my  kingdom
no  dragons  or  waywardness
just the well earned spectrum

My dearest Danny,
delicate young angel
with yellow hair..
sweet innocent child
that is not so innocent
redeem me,
from the ache that
gnaws through my bones

Where do you go?
when you want to feel safe?
Where do you hide?
to be invisible
and out of reach?
take me to your secret place
for I want to be there with you...

Life has not been kind
to you,
dearest Danny
experiences have aged
you far beyond your years
and yet you cope,
you recuperate from
the scars that blur
your identity
How soft you still are
how fragile,
not hardened nor embittered

How do you still go on?
standing up after every fall
Then falling again
Then standing up again.....
The bruises that covered your soul
have healed,
but at what price...

And yet,
here you are before me
blindingly beautiful
with a tainted innocence
and such a trusting heart
I miss that waywardness about you
I miss the weakness that
makes you unintentionally strong

Take me to your secret place,
Danny...
And heal me...
make me whole again....

It was written in stone
With celestial chisel
That they walk the path of sin
Reined by the rings of Hell--
Much like a planet
Waltzing in captivity.
What could they turn to
Beyond the drift of revelation
Trickling through the wake of Time.
And I, the so-called progeny
Of such cursed matrimony,
Have myriad of times
Rebelled against
unwanted imprisonment,
Have resorted to
many uncanny schemes
To tear down the bars of legacy
Alas, i have come
To a stupefying standstill
Stood and swallowed
The demons of my waywardness
Oh, how those demons kept me alive
At every destructive yet
ecstatic turn.
How to separate God and Devil
Impossible!
The promise of descension looms
In every game of darkness
The Light above blooms
Every hue of divine harness.
In mystifying ocean of thoughts
Which way to walk, to run
Humanity seems the only savior.
A forbidden fruit
Unleashed the human race
The fable of original sin.

But Heart-Land has grown
too old, weary and familiar
travellers have turned away
heartless is the once-proud lover-

once the most- loved terrain
life's sanctuary and treasure
flowers have withered for neglect
no more to be found is simple pleasure-

weeds have festered and soils
have hardened beyond measure
the sands on the shore have turned grey
the once-merry stream has lost its murmur--

how sad it is. Laughter and  beauty has been betrayed by the lover
who looked away in waywardness
  the grandeur and splendour is over.

But life (few do realise)
is a trickster
they try to bribe it
it answers never

those we triumph
they don't beg nor barter
my poetry tames the waywardness
of life as I'm stronger and tougher.

We purchased 2020 Hyundai Elantra
at Enterprise Car Rental
1207 West Ridge Pike
Conshohocken, Pennsylvania 19428
April thirteenth two thousand twenty three
witnessed greatest amount of money
I spent at one time.

The following day April 14th, 2023
(after my automotive troubles
seemed so far away),
when important business concluded at:
Pennsylvania Department of Transportation -
Photo License Center,
1700 Markley Street,
Norristown, Pennsylvania 19401.

Before somnolent vestige
completely vanished, and vanquished
post retentive grogginess dissipated
ipso facto after awakening
from dream state come true
and opening eyelids
Delilah gifted with melanin
swiftly tailored uber vestil ******
hit with hair brained scheme
to generate goldenlocks

worth gobs of green
freshly minted legal tender
despite fallout being upbraided
bald brazenness occurred
to emasculate Johnny comb lately
he experienced brush with immortality
until he almost got scalped
saved by skin of his teeth
unbeknownst to lass (see) how keen

her intended prey nicknamed Samson
worthwhile fitness expense
disciplined, coaxed, and buffed physique
to chisel, mold sculpt, et cetera
his body to become lean
said kingly chess mate pledged troth
to ebony queen,
she wedded near likeness of the boss
(doppelganger) Bruce Springsteen.

Additionally while slumbering,
I experienced close encounters
of the third kind
manifested as following visitation
linkedin and included chance encounter
with a rock-ribbed mountain of a man
(whose shaved noggin glistened)
simply known as thee ebullient B.T.,
one strapping muscular dynamic
colorful preacher

of health and positive welfare,
who strongly encouraged me
(combination aging long haired
pencil necked geek, harried styled
white tarnished knight,
teenage mutant ninja turtle,
and wunderkind wily wordsmith)
to pay him a visit
at the following LA Fitness site
2961 Swede Road,
East Norriton, Pennsylvania 19401.

Aforementioned stranger in a strange land
athletic built endowed fellow
with smooth glistening ebony skin
talked (courtesy booming inspirational voice)
an evangelical blue streak regarding
the merits of communication
heavily peppered with brotherly/sisterly love
with powerful salted spiritual undertones.

Impossible mission during wakeful state
to recreate, rehabilitate, rejuvenate,
rekindle, and resuscitate a likeness
courtesy figment of my imagination
said boisterous, gregarious, illustrious,
and rambunctious well sculpted
specimen of **** sapiens
as hinted at above.

Though no Hercules
(in fact just the antonym),
mine alter ego exaggerated,
intimated, and outlined,
a mollified Genie could blithely wave
magic wand abracadabra
spellbinding mine fate, aye
would rejoice beholding,
an African Queen to quash
celibacy, cuz declaration of consummation

stemming premature *******
more precious then
fine spun gold (for Josephine) to buy
time against tortured Golgotha kepi
mein kampf wracking fate, thence pave
ving a stairway to heaven
after this ivory pawn doth die
cleansing, exorcising, and flushing
infidelity kindling lover,
which prurient waywardness

found me to misbehave
ah bon Jove vee errant fellow
(wanted dead or alive),  
I das scribe many blue moons ago,
when verboten fruit
yours truly didst deaf fie
temptation no amount
renouncing, repenting, rerouting
travesty, mockery, and effrontery
regarding egregious transgression
excising emotional affliction

spent kneeling on wounded knee,
this besotted knave
scrutinizing indelible engravure
etched with blessed
"Jesus, bare naked Amazon Mary
and Joseph" motif guy
interweaved by pointed
finger of Goddess Sheba almighty
beckoned deft fiat halting joist
lowered nondescript plain rigid casket

swallowed by grave
temporally ushered whirled wide
webbed rebirth where I
received life anew breathless composure
dousing errant fellow
guilt honestly iterated, jackanapes
kneaded licentious maligned narcissistic
opprobrious philandering questing re: deprave
transgressions, whereat
this gentile Jew did lie
unclothed satisfying prurient flava flave

vitiating marital covenant, now my
soul asylum anointed,
via misdirected, misguided, and misjudged
sedulous, poisonous, opprobrious,
nevertheless glorious, and fabulous
Nubian enchantress deign nigh
ying celibacy decreeing
expurgating ****** crave
ving, hence thy status as Zen eternal
****** (corny punster) mocker

as acceptable punishment bequeathed
by said deliquescent, iridescent,
and opalescent dreamt up
"FAKE" pitch black
kickstarting Negroid hallucination
from over active imagination
me didst truly ply
avariciousness as Holden Caulfield
protagonist catcher in the rye.

john redding
traveler by sea
upon death
revitalised a breath
inside of me.
a short story
shortly, but surely
kindling a desire
for the waywardness of a
vagabond

Into my wild uncertain life,
Like the rays of Sun through canopy,
Dreams so wild and vast gush through,
chasing out the looming waywardness,
burning out every rejection and failure,
turning every obstacle into possibilities.

Now I’m A LYRICAL GUERRILLA... !!!
Who’s A VERY DEEP THINKER... !!!
  
So Am NOT Some *******...
Like That Paedo’ Gary Glitter... !!!
  
Or The Type Who Beds SISTERS... !?!
Because What Kind of Heart...
Would Tear Sisters APART...
To Fulfil Their ****** Needs... ?!?
  
Like Some Kind of HUNGRY MONKEY...
That LACKS... MORALITY... ?!?
  
Now By Sisters I Mean...
Those Who Are Part of The SAME FAMILY... !!!
  
Because Those Kind of Antics...
Are Those QUICKLY Redacted...
  
By Guerrillas Like ME... !!!
Because I’m NOT Like These FIENDS... !!!
Cos’ I’m A DIFFERENT Kind of Breed... !!!
To Those Who Choose To Feed...
  
Like Count Drac’ And His Team... !!!
of Bloodsuckers Who Seem...
To Be The Type Who Lead...
... And Run Societies... !!!
  
So My GUERRILLA Tactics...
Feed LYRICAL LASHINGS...
That I Give Through Poetry... !!!
  
Because I’m LYRICALLY...
… MORE DANGEROUS... !!!
Than These Young Emcees...
Who Just Chat BREEZE...
To Earn Themselves Money... !!!
  
Who Show WAYWARDNESS...
And Degrees UNLIKE The THREE...
  
You See My Verse INDEED...
Is VERSATILE And DEADLY... !!!
  
So I’m More Like A KONG...
Whose Lyrically STRONG... !!!
  
So DO NOT Belong...
In A World of Shapeshifters... !!!
  
Where Those Enlisted...
Are Regularly... ******... !!!
It Seems By Shirt Lifters...
And Monetary Grifters...
Who Run From TRUE Guerrillas... !!!
  
Whose Form of Lyricism...
Is Simply Too HARD HITTING... !!!
  
Because Their Breed Is WEAK... !!!
So Employ DEVIOUS Ways  ...
To Keep Their Puppets CAGED...
As Well As Lyrically TAME...
As Long As They SEE FAME... !!!
  
But REAL Guerrillas...
... DON’T Walk That Way... !!!
  
They Walk In Ways Too STRAIGHT...
For The World... TODAY...
Where Groups Now DICTATE...
What Entertainers Say... !!!
  
Well REAL GUERRILLAS AREN’T Willing...
To Be TAMED And Placed...
In Places Where They Lay...
Like PROSTITUTING Dames... !!!
  
Because Our Lyrics DISPLAY...
Wordplay That SHAKES...
And DECIMATES These Fakes... !!!
  
And PUSSYHOLES...
Who Are CONTROLLED... !!!
  
Like Robots Being Made...
To Patrol And Act Like They...
Can Pretend To Be HUMANE... !?!
  
It’s CRAZY Now To SEE...
How WEAK Most People Be... !!!
  
While Protests Make Some Feel...
As If They’re Being REAL... !!!
  
When... Most of Them...
Are Part of THE PROBLEM... !!!
  
Because They’ve SHUNNED GUERRILLAS...
Until Their NON EXISTENT... !!!
  
Because This New Breed...
DOESN'T Seem To See...
That New Technology...
Can **** INDISCRIMINATELY...
And Face NO PENALTIES... !!!
  
Just Like TODAYS Police... !!!
  
Who Now DON’T Seem To Be...
So Willing To Police The Streets... !?!
  
Because of... The Disease...
That Corona CANNOT Beat... !!!
  
The DISEASE of FALLACIES...
And IGNORANCE That’s Reached...
  
LEVELS... Now BEYOND BELIEF... !!!
  
Which Is Why BIG VIRGE...
Is A Wordplay KILLER...
  
Who Can ONLY Be DEFINED...
  
As A.....
  
.... “ LYRICAL GUERRILLA “....

You called again, I picked again
You promised to stay, but you left unnoticed
I cried again.,for you left again.
Sun turns yellow, All for gain?

Try try again? No never again.
There’s no blame. Just a lesson
Of being a better me.

Get back up ,Try it again
With another name.Ignite a new flame

***** out again,Not a cake
Flame of soul, Someone’s trouble cold
Walking away unnoticed,once glimpse of waywardness noticed

There it goes,Another’s mended soul.
Broken for show
Of a fool I think I was
Thinkin they are in control
Not fully grown
Invisible heart necklace,
But healed and strong

Most painful part,To many hearts
You’ll remember one,One that laughed
Into your eyes.
One that makes you feel like a goddess
That supported your dreams
But turned to be the runner

But they looked back,And shattered it
The soul slithered, Away to hide his fear
No more playing, Had it’s fill

Maybe it’s time,I finally grow
To explore the world without you
Then you’ll know,you'll then understand
Who laughed last, wins the best game

Who got played, And could’ve lasted
But now alone? They are there
But you're alone, Am I sorry?
For it's what you called for yourself.

Well of course,But lessons are there
They surely are.
Who can glow? The healed heart
Well it is,I did implore
To save you,To protect you

I now know, All I got
Was illusion.Was just a dream
Trying to convince myself
But I have gotten it right now
I only have me.

And my peace stands.
For I chose me, myself and I
And I give me a pat on the back
For lessons gotten write.